


Beautiful

by ko_chan



Series: The Shy Witch and The Cruel Prince [2]
Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Erotic, F/M, Possessive Behavior, Touching, petting, possessive goro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2020-06-03 14:18:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19465744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ko_chan/pseuds/ko_chan
Summary: Karma-verse. After her encounter with Akechi at Leblanc, Futaba wonders how he can see her that way when she thinks she isn’t attractive.





	Beautiful

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Krisaliachan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krisaliachan/gifts), [HoneyOTUtm606](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HoneyOTUtm606/gifts).



> Disclaimer: I don’t own Persona 5

If anyone were to ask about Futaba Sakura’s talents, the first thing anyone would say is “she’s a genius”. Even back when she attended school, her tech knowledge floored many teachers, often at times they would be consulting her how to fix a tech problem instead of the actual IT department.

If she could count all her compliments, they’ve usually been about her intellect or her silly personality. She didn’t recall a time anyone would comment on her looks. She had a vague memory of her mother showering her with soft coos of her apparent cuteness, but other than that, Futaba knew she wasn’t known for her beauty—she was known for her brains.

And that was fine with Futaba. She had accepted she wasn’t attractive, which led her to reject wearing anything skimpy or revealing. She didn’t want anyone to see her body. She’s seen it enough in the mirror to know it wasn’t appealing. Early on, she used to stare at herself in the mirror, wondering why she wasn’t pretty until it got to the point she convinced herself she must be gross, and therefore she covered up the mirror, too afraid to keep confronting something she couldn’t change.

The insecurities only served to flare when she met Makoto, Ann, and Haru, and saw how boys would look at them like they were heaven on earth. That night, she looked at herself in the mirror, examining herself critically. She was quite small, very petite, with small hips and small breasts, too plain hairstyle, and too big eyes to consider looking mature. She was too childlike, and it showed in her appearance.

That didn’t make her hate her female teammates. On the contrary, she thought they were very beautiful, and she was happy they deemed her acceptable to hang around despite her looks not being up to par. She was fascinated by the way boys would look at them with blushing cheeks and dazed eyes. She’d hear boys whisper appreciatively about her three female friends when they would walk by in the city. Boys would say how beautiful they were, how they’d love to have a chance with someone like that, how they’d love to have them blushing in their beds.

Futaba loved watching boys fawn over her three friends because all those things interested her. It made her curious what was the ideal female to men, and why wasn’t she considered one. It was like a scientific mystery to her. Were certain women born with a spark that some other women didn’t have? Was it their shape, which were more curvier than hers? Was it their confidence?

Whatever the reason, it was clear to Futaba those three had something she did not, and that was okay. She was used to being alone. She didn’t think anyone could put up with her anyway. In addition, boys becoming flustered because of her friends was absolutely hilarious, and she could get enjoyment out of their stammering and flushed cheeks every time. It made for some great teasing material towards her male friends when they got caught ogling.

But then Goro Akechi comes and sends her preconceptions straight into the biggest flaming dumpster he could find. She remembered his lips on her, his claims that she was his, and his confession of harboring affection for her. It made no sense to Futaba, who was so used to being the one left out of attraction. For the first time in forever, Futaba went towards her mirror and critically examined herself again, trying to find anything that was different. Besides Akechi’s love bites, she found nothing out of the ordinary. Her breasts and hips were still too small, her appearance too plain—she was still gross as she was before.

So what had attracted him to her? The mystery was maddening. It often took up her mind when she should be planning the next heist for her fellow thieves. Her comrades have noticed her more pensive deposition and chalked it up to still being in shock from getting her humor handed back to her, and therefore plotting revenge, or she was solving some hacking equation she didn’t encounter before. They couldn’t be farther from the truth.

Not to mention, when she had seen him since the incident with her comrades, he was his normal princely self. No trace of the monster who attempted to devour her whole was there. He treated her with politeness, and Futaba didn’t understand why he isn’t repulsed by her. Shouldn’t he be ignoring her because she was so disgusting? There were times she thought she saw glimpses of that wolf in sheep’s clothing when Akira, Ryuji, or Yusuke would get too close to her, but it was gone before she could wonder if it was real or not. She wondered if the others knew of the beast that existed inside the detective prince, and concluded that they did not, still teasing and jovial with him.

All of this bugged Futaba to the point of making her go mad, and one day with Akira, she found she couldn’t take it anymore.

“Why doesn’t he get I’m gross?” Futaba pondered out loud. Akira looked up curiously, not sure he heard her right. He and and Futaba were the only ones in Leblanc while Morgana slumbered upstairs. It was a pretty slow day all around and the two found it relaxing, a break from Phantom duties and Akira’s social activities.

“What did you say, Futaba?” Akira asked her politely. Futaba gave him a serious gaze.

“Akechi. Why is he still hanging around me? Doesn’t he know I’m gross?” Futaba elaborated bluntly. Akira was floored she’d say that about herself.

“Futaba… you think you’re ugly?” Akira asked, worried for his friend. Protective instincts rose within him. He was going to pound whoever told Futaba that. Was it one of her sleezy relatives? He’d be sure to tell Sojirou as well so he could get a pounding in.

“No. I’m more than that. I’m disgusting, Akira.” Futaba said simply, not bothered by her mean words towards herself. Akira stared at her shocked. “But Akechi doesn’t seem to be repulsed by it. I don’t get it.”

“Where did you get a ridiculous idea like that?! Futaba, you’re not disgusting at all!” Akira came around from the counter to sit with her at the bar. He pulled her to his chest, trying to squeeze all the bad things she thought about herself out. Futaba squirmed.

“Akira! Come on, it’s obvious! No one ever ogles me! Or asks me out! Or gets flustered around me! I have to be disgusting, right?” Futaba protested. Akira just hugged her tighter. Futaba huffed as Akira pulled back enough to look into her eyes.

“So because men don’t perv on you, you think you’re too ugly?” Akira gaped. Futaba nodded, furrowing her brow in frustration. Akira’s eyes narrowed. “How long have you been measuring your worth based on this?” he demanded.

“Well… I mean. No one’s ever looked at me that way before…” Futaba told him, shrinking back. Akira sighed, lifting a hand and gently ruffled her hair. He had a soft smile.

“Futaba… remember, you haven’t been outside in years. The last time men probably saw you was when you were a kid. I don’t think you’d want men looking at you at that age.” Akira told her. Futaba blushed in embarrassment. When he puts it like that, it makes her feel silly.

“Well… what about now when I go outside? No one still looks at me!” Futaba challenged, trying to win this weird battle with Akira. Akira narrowed his eyes, frowning.

“That’s because me, Ryuji, and Yusuke glare at them before they even do. We don’t do it for the other girls because they can handle themselves, but Futaba, you are just getting used to being outside again. We don’t want anyone scaring you to go back into your room and never come out.” Akira explained, feeling his protective instincts come out again, holding her close. Those men would taint Futaba. Futaba was too pure for them. They did not deserve her.

“But… you guys don’t ogle me either…” Futaba let out quietly, head down, feeling more and more silly. Of course, her boys would be protecting her from unsavory men. Akira choked, blushing intensely.

“That’s… Futaba, you shouldn’t want that.” He tried to counsel her. Futaba’s lip quivered.

“But it’s true! You guys don’t think I’m attractive! That’s why you don’t look at me!” Futaba cried out, tears coming to her eyes, her anger at her own ugliness coming to the forefront of her frustration.

Akira opened his mouth, about to comfort her, before someone entering the coffee shop stopped him. He gulped, realizing the position the newcomer saw him with Futaba. Normally, the newcomer doesn’t make him nervous, but there was something different about him as he looked upon him and Futaba.

Futaba registered Akira letting her go, and that made her cry harder, thinking he was finally coming forth with his own feelings of repulsion. She covered her face, not wanting anyone to see her ugliness. Futaba did not hear the footsteps coming near her nor did she feel the stranger staring at her.

It wasn’t until someone wrapped their arms around her from behind and the familiar scent of cinnamon assaulting her senses made her jump. She looked up in surprise, seeing Akechi staring down at her with an unreadable expression. Futaba felt her heart quicken its pace at his intense gaze before he wordlessly broke the connection and turned his head to gaze at Akira who was staring at them warily.

For some reason, Akira wanted to snatch Futaba out of Akechi’s hold, which didn’t make sense since Akechi is polite and a gentleman. Yet, the way his arms circled around her, and the way he pulled her to his chest screamed something dark and possessive. It wasn’t a hug between friends, or a possible shy suitor for her like he thought Akechi was—it was a claim.

“Akira, I’ll take Sakura home. I’m sure your shift isn’t done yet, and she appears distressed.” Akechi was his usual polite self despite the way he held Futaba. Red flags were going off in Akira’s head. He was already suspicious that Akechi was a traitor to them as thieves, but his fixation on Futaba made it worse.

“I’m fine!” Futaba stomped her foot. She didn’t seem alarmed with the way Akechi was holding her, but Futaba was often not aware of the intentions of unsavory men.

“I—”

“Come along now, Sakura. Sojirou-san is probably waiting for you.” Akechi interrupted Akira, as if he didn’t have a say whether or not Futaba was leaving. Futaba huffed, tears still running down her face, and crossed her arms, face red.

“Fine…” Futaba grumbled, and before Akira could stop them, Akechi led Futaba out of Leblanc.

That didn’t stop Akira from worrying, however.

\--------------

Futaba allowed Akechi to hold her hand as they walked towards the Sakura residence. Her cheeks were sticky from her tears and blotchy from crying. She was sure she must’ve looked a sight. She wiped some snot on her sleeve, not even bothering to fix herself. There was no point anyway.

“Is Sojirou-san in there waiting for you?” Akechi asked, and Futaba found they were already at her house. She shook her head rapidly, sniffling.

“He’s on a trip.” Futaba told him. Akechi smiled, tugging her towards the door.

“Do you mind if I come in? It’s getting dark. You might want some company.” Akechi said kindly. Futaba shook her head, going to unlock the gate. If she was in her right mind, she would’ve realized that having a boy that literally ravished her before probably shouldn’t be coming into her house with no one home, but Futaba really didn’t want to be alone, no matter how much she didn’t want to admit it. She knew all she’d do was uncover her mirror and stare into it, insulting everything about herself again.

They entered the house, with Futaba turning on the lights and going towards the kitchen to fix them tea, but Akechi stopped her.

“We can have tea later.” He told her. “Let’s play some games. That usually makes you feel better, right?” he proposed. Futaba shrugged, sniffling again and wiping her nose.

“We can go to my room then.” She told him, and he followed her into her bedroom. He shut the door behind them, clicking it. Futaba didn’t register he locked it, too busy trying to straighten the space up. She should really think about being neater. “Ack!”

She was suddenly yanked backwards towards her bed, pinned under Akechi, who examined her critically, his eyes narrowing as he took in her blotchy cheeks and tear stained face. She frowned.

“What?” she asked defensively. Akechi didn’t answer, pulling away her jacket to check if his love bites were still there. They were nothing more than small pink splotches. He’d have to remedy that. Examining for any mark he didn’t leave, Akechi was satisfied when he found none. He then laid beside her, making her face him. His thumb stroked her sticky cheek, looking at her intensely.

“What happened?” he asked her. Futaba blinked, still not used to Akechi’s switches in personality. It was like whiplash in a sense.

“Err well nothing really…” Futaba murmured, looking away. She didn’t want to explain to Akechi that she was essentially frustrated he wasn’t repulsed by her and he seemed to be the only one. Akechi narrowed his eyes, not satisfied with her answer.

“And yet I walk into you sobbing and Joker putting his dirty hands on you.” Akechi pointed out, not pleased that his rival was touching something that he considered his. Futaba huffed, new tears coming to her eyes.

“It’s not like he’s gonna do anything! I’m the one who’s dirty! Not him!” Futaba snapped. Here, Akechi blinked, shocked she said that. “It seems like all my friends think I’m repulsive except you, and I don’t understand why you aren’t disgusted too! I’m ugly and gross!” Futaba bit out in irritation. Akechi just stared at her.

“You think you’re disgusting?” Akechi asked her, not believing he was hearing her correctly. Futaba made a noise of frustration and turned away from him, not wanting him to see more tears. He made it sound like it was completely baffling for her to think such a thing!

“Well yeah! I’m never being ogled! Or no one looks at me like that! I’m just too plain!” Futaba continued, determined to make him see her point. Akechi didn’t answer, and Futaba took it as he finally was starting to see what she was saying. “Eep!” she squeaked when Akechi flipped her onto her back, grasping her cheeks firmly and crashing his mouth against hers.

Futaba’s face erupted into a blush, feeling hot all over, as Akechi’s tongue sensually stroked hers. A heat started to pool in her belly before drifting down to her in between her legs, and Futaba clenched her thighs together to try and rid the foreign feeling.

Akechi separated from her at last when they both needed air, laying his forehead against hers and giving her a stern look.

“It seems I’ve given your genius too much credit. I’ve never heard something so absurd from your mouth.” Akechi stated. Futaba frowned.

“Don’t make fun of me! It’s true!” Futaba argued stubbornly. Akechi frowned deeper.

“Tell me, little mouse,” he began using his nickname for her, “why would you want to vex me by enticing other men to look at you? I’ve already warned them anonymously not to even look at what’s mine. I’ve even marked you to ward off men to not touch you. How could you not realize you are the most beautiful women and I need to make my claim of you obvious or else someone will try to take you?” Akechi explained, his eyes dark with thoughts of punishing those who tried to take her away from him.

“W-What? You’re kidding!” Futaba denied. Akechi smirked, his eyes taking on a sadistic glint.

“Oh yes, I quite recall your male friends pissing their pants with the mystery warning I left in the metaverse not to gaze at you in a disgusting manner or else there would be consequences. You’re too irresistible for your own good you know.” He teased, smirking as he drunk in the sight of her adorable flushing face staring back up at him in disbelief.

“I-I don’t think I am…” Futaba whispered, averting her eyes, not being able to take his intense gaze for too long. Akechi sighed, moving off of her and sitting up on her bed, pinching the bridge of his nose, smiling ironically.

“You truly have no idea what you do to me, do you?” Akechi asked her, chuckling, as if he couldn’t believe she still didn’t realize his amorous desires for her. Futaba blinked

“Well, I mean… I… repulse you, don’t I?” Futaba ventured. Akechi snapped his gaze to her and Futaba gulped at the spark in them as he eyed her, like she was a tasty meal. He smirked at her reaction. His eyes shifted to the covered mirror opposite of her bed and was struck with an idea. He rose up, uncovering the mirror and beckoning her to sit next to him on her bed in front of the mirror.

“Come here, little mouse.” He beckoned, smirking, and Futaba’s heart banged erratically against her chest. She timidly approached him, and he guided her to sit in between his legs, facing the mirror. She blushed, her heart increasing its tempo, and went stiff when she felt Akechi’s chest against her back. “I want you to watch the mirror, little mouse.” He commanded softly, but with authority. Futaba nodded, seeing their reflection. Her: looking wide-eyed and nervous and him: eyeing her like a wolf eyes its prey. His grin widened when she gulped, her eyes locking onto his in the reflection.

Futaba jumped at the feel of his gloveless hands on her t-shirt, his flesh warming her stomach through the fabric, despite seeing it in the mirror. She watched, fascinated, as his hands slowly went under her shirt, stroking the soft skin beneath. She gasped at the feel of his flesh on her own, despite this happening before with their last encounter. She attempted to look down at her stomach, but Akechi tickled her lightly in warning.

“Watch the mirror.” he ordered gently. Futaba watched his reflection’s hand trailed up, grazing under her bra. She gasped at the feel of his hands barely grazing her breasts, arching into him. The shock of his touch sent heat straight in between her legs. Seeing her reflection copy her movements and his reflection’s devious smirk only served to make her throb with desire down there.

His reflection leaned into her reflection’s ear, and Futaba felt his breath against her ear, making her shiver in delight and anticipation. For what, she didn’t know exactly.

“You see your blush? It’s completely adorable. Your eyes are sparkling with wonder, making them shine. Your lips gasping? It makes me want to make your cute moans come out like before.” Akechi told her, as his hands left from under her shirt and slowly ran down her body to her thighs. His fingers went under her thigh-highs, touching the flesh underneath and Futaba let out a mew. He chuckled at her reaction, continuing to draw circles onto her skin, leaving her thigh-highs alone and drifting higher towards her inner thigh.

“Feeling you right now is driving me crazy. I want to take you right now. I want to do things to you that no one else has ever done. I want to make you scream out my name as I do them. I want you to tell me you’re only mine. I want to make you completely lose all your senses and make you as crazy about me as I am about you.”

Hearing his words and watching him say them in his reflection while she saw and felt his fingers stroking the inside of her thighs made Futaba’s body thrum with need. The throbbing between her legs was unbearable. Her hands gripped Akechi’s pants on each side of her.

Then his fingers brushed up against her shorts at her sex and Futaba arched straight into him, moaning his name in a breathy manner “Goro…”. She felt Akechi go rigid against her back, and Futaba opened her eyes in confusion, wondered what was wrong. His eyes were wide, and he appeared to be panting a little, his pupils were dilated.

Seeing her gaze, he groaned, laying his forehead on her shoulder.

“Don’t do that, little mouse.” He told her weakly. Futaba was curious.

“Do what?” she asked.

“Don’t say my name like that. It is doing horrible things to my self-control.” Akechi said as he hugged her to him, and Futaba felt something poking her backside. Her face exploded into a bright blush. “Gods, you’re beautiful.” He breathed against her shoulder.

“R-really?” she whispered, unsure, needing reassurance. Akechi chuckled, nodding into her shoulder.

“Yes. Very much so.”

They sat there for a long time, Akechi just holding her, and Futaba felt at peace for once staring at her reflection.

\---------------

“Akira?” Futaba called. It was the next morning and he was opening. Akira gave her a curious look. Futaba avoided his eyes, fingers fiddling with her shirt’s hem. “Erm… keep not ogling me thanks. I don’t want you to die.”

“Erm… alright…” Akira blinked, wondering how she found out about the anonymous threat.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Let me know if you guys want me to write more!


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